Fancy That
by CrazyIndigoChild
Summary: Sometimes the puzzle of love doesn't always give you adjoining pieces. You have to awkwardly snap them into place and smooth out the edges first. Whoa, look at that. They fit now!


A quick trade I did with Anonymousauthor406. I hope you enjoy! Someone told me you were partial to Tugger/Misto sass ;)

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Opens with Mistoffelees psyching himself out in the mirror. "...'So I know we've been friends for a while, and I wanted to inform you-' ugh, that won't do."

He straightened up in the mirror, looked himself dead in the eye...and then deflated. "Who 'informs' people anymore? Munkustrap maybe." Actually that might have been an idea; he could tell Munkustrap who could then _inform_ Tugger of his longstanding crush-turned-unrequited-love. Yes...that was a good idea; he'd keep that in his back pocket.

In the light of some strange cosmological event, Mistoffelees had found his best friend lying out in the sun, _alone_ , and looking blindingly dazzling. As usual. Perhaps it was a sign...or a trick. It wouldn't be the first time Everlasting Cat had him biting his own tail.

Still, he took a shaky breath for confidence and leaped up onto the shipping crate, greeting his dozing friend with an unexpectedly exuberant "Tugger there's something I need to tell you!"

" _Need_ you say? Then I suppose I should pay attention." He stretched in the most endearing and erotic way possible. The sound of a dozen jaws dropping was deafening. Tugger looked up at him expectantly and…oh wow, was it warm outside today!

"I've..." cue inner turmoil, strum up self-consciousness, pound away at the self-sabotaging bongos. "Noticed a piece of fluff in your mane." With a strained laugh he reached out and picked at an invisible ball of fuzz and threw it over his shoulder.

Tugger's brow furrowed, not bothering to inspect his now pristine mane. "I... thank you. That was very important and pressing."

Misto took in a quaky breath, quelling the sudden urge to run away to Germany and change his name to Bernard.

All he needed was to get his foot in the door. Once he peeked around the threshold he could count on Tugger to drag him in kicking and screaming. What could he say? "I fancy... someone." The last bit was quiet, almost imperceptible even to himself. But damnit he said it and that was something!

Tugger's whiskers twitched and he peeked an eye up at him. "You're fancy? Aren't you just full of surprises today," he laughed, nudging Misto's thigh for good measure.

"It was a verb," Mistoffelees murmured.

"A what?"

"Verb. An action."

"You're _acting_ fancy?"

"I fancy someone!"

The floodlights in Tugger's mind went off, nearly blinding him with a devilish grin as he rolled onto his stomach. "You fancy someone! The ever vague and aloof Magical Mr. Mist-"

"Yes yes, it's hilarious," he grunted. Let the kicking and screaming begin.

"Not hilarious, just…curious." Tugger eyed him anew, a thousand questions lining up. "So...who is it?"

"Must you be so impudent?"

"I'm a very busy tom, Misty, I can't afford to beat around the bush."

"Clearly."

"So...?"

Mistoffelees felt his throat dry up and close. He licked his lips with a papery sound. Tugger quickly got the hint and sat up.

"Twenty questions," Mistoffelees croaked, avoiding his gaze.

"Sure. Number one: who is it?"

Mistoffelees tossed him an exasperated look.

"Okay, fine. Is it a Jellicle?"

"Of course. Who else-"

"Tom or Queen."

He swallowed thickly, glancing at Tugger who gave him an encouraging nod. "Tom."

Immediately the coon's face crumpled up in distaste. "It's not Asparagus, is it?"

Mistoffelees licked at his paw, trying to calm the twist in his stomach. At his silence Tugger's cheeky teasing evaporated to mildly disturbed concern, "...Is it?"

"No!"

Tugger shoved his face in Misto's looking him dead in the eye. "Are you playing with me?"

"I-I...I- uh. Munkustrap!"

Tugger pulled away, bemused and visibly skeptical, "Munkustrap? I don't think you're his type..."

At hearing his name, Munkustrap looked up from his inspection of an old wood burner. "I need to speak with him, excuse me. We'll talk later!"

"If you say so," Tugger shrugged and flopped down for some much needed sunbathing on his deprived belly. Mistoffelees leaped from the shipping crate and trotted over to the tabby, who smiled and greeted the tux with a nuzzle. Neither he nor Mistoffelees aware of the coon's lingering gaze.

Later Tugger had paid Munkustrap a visit- now the tabby may not look it but he was a lucrative gossiper. Tugger himself may be reputed as being artful and knowing but he'd admit in a heartbeat that Munkustrap knew so much more. To Munkustrap, _all_ gossip was worth knowing; Tugger drew the line at recipes, mild illness, and anniversary plans.

All this knowledge, and still his lips were sealed when it came to Mistoffelees and the topic of their _urgent_ conversation. While Tugger left with a few juicy tidbits on Admetus and Tantomile's failing relationship- wouldn't you know Coricopat was too clingy- he came out even more confused about his tuxed friend.

"He was acting real strange," he'd told Munkustrap, "Like someone was holding a bucket of ice water over his head." The tabby had simply nodded and continued his crocheting.

But that couldn't just be _that_ ; there had to be more. Mistoffelees had to have told the tabby something about his secret facy-ee to have been sworn to secrecy.

All he knew was that it wasn't Asparagus... _Probably._

Or what if it _is_ Munk? Oh…

That knocked quite the wind from his sails. To think that all this time he'd been teasing and bothering the winsome Mistoffelees and the tux had been looking to Munkustrap the whole time. Tugger couldn't exactly blame Misto for looking elsewhere; he kept a lot of cats around and it was clear the tux had a penchant for monogamy. And Munk was nothing if not shrieking 'dedicated life partner for one.'

Tugger sniffed. He could be monogamous... for the right cat, of course.

He could be monogamous for Mistoffelees.

Maybe if he knew Tugger could still have a chance.

Genius!

There was no time to waste on thinking his plan through, much less to come up with a plan. Tugger had to find Mistoffelees and let him know that he could be monogamous, he could be a dedicated mate, and that Tugger could very possibly fancy him.

The 'very possibly' was in case things started to get ugly.

It had been an hour of searching, but Tugger eventually found the tux in the first place he should have looked: his den. Mistoffelees answered the door half-awake. "Tugger, what-"

"Remember when you said you fancied someone?"

"...Okay, yes."

"I was thinking about it and I think I fancy someone too."

"You _think_ you fancy someone," Mistoffelees said, incredulous.

Tugger nodded, "Yes, and I think I'm going to ask them to be my mate. _For life_."

Either sleep had delayed the frequency or Mistoffelees had bet money he'd never hear the words 'mate' and 'life' in the same sentence (That wasn't 'I will never take a mate in my life.') because he stared at him like his fur had turned hot pink. Eventually he shook himself awake. "Then I guess congratulations are in order."

"Not yet, I've... ah... not asked them."

"Right. I wish you luck then." They stood awkwardly a moment, staring out into the space between them. "...Is that all?"

Hmm, maybe he should have reworded his proclamation a little differently. Then professing his affections for Mistoffelees wouldn't be an unsolicited proposal to a lifelong commitment. "No."

The tux quirked an eyebrow and leaned against the frame of the door, looking up at him expectantly. His eyes still a bit droopy and his fur mussed up in all the right ways. Times like these it was always so hard not to touch. "I might want to start with telling them how I feel first. Before all the mate stuff."

"That'd be wise," he said with a dainty yawn. "Tugger, I'm really not the best cat to be asking about things like this."

"Why not? Are you afraid that-"

Mistoffelees frowned and slumped off the jam. "I'm closing the door now, Tugger."

"No, Misto wait!"

"Mistoffelees is going back to bed now," he called from inside the den. From outside the door he could hear the tux flop onto his nest with a tired groan. For a long moment he waited; any second now the door would open and- "I know you're still there!"

With a growl Tugger stormed up the path. Mission failed. If anything, he'd probably managed to make Misto like him less. He almost entertained the thought of going back to explain his sudden lack of...a brain.

He couldn't help himself! This tux was all wrapped up in his thoughts now and he was at the mercy of those enchanting blue eyes and the way his nose twitched whenever the breeze tickled his whiskers. Hell, he dared say even the way the tux hyper-critically picked apart his mouse before eating it was in its own way endearing.

Bastet what was he doing?!

Mistoffelees slept in fits until the sun was low on the horizon. By tea time he was up and about, unable to fidget in his den any longer. Instead of going to the clearing, he found himself ambling to the back of the lot, one cat in particular on his mind. "Tugger," he groaned, hopping up onto a decayed printing press. "You make a terrible stalker."

Peeking out from around the pile of photo albums was Tugger's guilty face, dressed up in a sheepish grin. "I make up for it in other ways."

"I can imagine." Looking away he blushed. He shouldn't have assumed Tugger was being lewd but his mind couldn't help but wander.

"And what are you seeing?" came the saucy bravado as he regained his confidence and swaggered forward. Mistoffelees steeled himself and looked back to Tugger, watching him carefully but not trusting himself enough to keep from throwing his hand at the Coon's feet. Tugger was, after all, pursuing his life-long mate. The smouldering look lifted and his eyes hardened. "You said we would talk later."

"I don't feel much like talking."

"I'm excellent at charades."

Mistoffelees jumped down from the press, walking up to Tugger and sitting on his haunches.

"...You want to hit me," Tugger guessed.

"Hardly."

"Well you're going to have to give me another hint then, because I'm getting a lot of mixed-"

In the time it took Tugger to chaff his charades skills the tux had reached up, wrapped his fingers around the coon's collar, and reeled him in for a kiss. Just as quickly as it happened Mistoffelees pulled away to stare at the ants marching by his tail.

And, to his surprise, Tugger did not. "...I think I'm going to need another hint."

The moment he felt hot breath on his ear he reared up and met the coon halfway, anchoring his claws into the long tresses of Tugger's mane and kissing him for all he was worth. If that wasn't enough of a hint he might actually consider giving him a good box to the ears.

Tugger released him with a deep rumbling laugh, tail thumping the ground. He looked happy, and not in the cheeky mischievous way that forecasted a raging Jennyanydots. This smile was kind and beaming.

"Would I be wrong if I guess that I was the one you fancied?"

"Not at all," Mistoffelees breathed, kneading the mane beneath his paws. "Would I be wrong if I guessed I was the one you were going to ask to be mates with? For life?"

In a flash Tugger's happy smile was gone, his tail falling limp at their sides. Brow furrowed, he looked about ready to make a dash for the hills. Disappointment weakened Mistoffelees' confidence and his paws soon found their place at his side. "Tug, I wasn't-"

"No," he said evenly. "You wouldn't be wrong."

After a long pause Mistoffelees reached out and gently took Tugger's paw in his. "So, where do we go from here?"

"I know a place in the city that has the best curry… We could start there."

With a shy nod the tux flattened the fur still standing on the back of his neck.. "I'd like that."


End file.
